Burned
by Scarletskin
Summary: Appearance is everything in the fashion business. When Arthur Pendragon is burned in a fire, he discovers that life doesn't always go as planned and people aren't always what they seem. Modern AU.
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own Merlin. **

**The cover image was made by Darren Robertson**

* * *

Arthur Pendragon sank into the comfortable fabric of the expensive chair in front of his father's desk, letting out an exhausted but satisfied breath. His first day of work had gone splendidly. Not only did he impress Uther, but he also managed to single handedly find a way to raise their profits by 5%.

"Well I have to admit, Arthur, you've impressed me. I was worried about your partying, and I wondered if you would be capable of filling my shoes. If your performance today is any indication, I would say that I was wrong to doubt you," the corners of Uther's mouth turned up into a smile, and for a brief moment Arthur wondered if he was hallucinating. He was broken out of his trance when Uther raised his glass of 1961 Chateau Trotanoy Pomerol wine in respect.

"Thank you, father. I won't let you down," he told him passionately, swelling with happiness at the pride in his father's voice.

"No, I don't suppose you will," Uther nodded with a slight amount of threat woven into his words at the terrifying thought of his son ruining his company. Seeing a worried look start to form on his father's face, Arthur quickly changed the subject.

"Have you seen the horrible outfits Drucilla designed?"

Uther let out a dramatic scoff. "My god, if she worked in Pendragon Aparrel I would fire her in a second."

"Whoever hired her would need to be dealt with as well. No one who would hire such a fashion blind witch deserves a job."

Uther's proud smile returned as he patted his son on the back.

"Stay at home tonight. I have something that requires my attention for the next few hours, but we can have a chocolate pancake feast in the morning. As long as you don't tell any of the employees about it, that is. I have an image to uphold that doesn't involve me eating chocolate pancakes like a toddler," he joked.

"Sure, father," he grinned, striding out of Uther's office. With each step he took he drew more and more attention to himself. The only female who wasn't admiring him was the intern. That was just as well however, because she wasn't his type. He preferred his women to be bold and full of energy, and she was just...boring. After pressing the button in the elevator for the parking garage, he locked eyes with Kimberly, a redhead with dark brown eyes, and sent her a flirtatious wink. The doors quickly slid shut, but not before he noticed her gazing at him with longing.

He smirked slightly as he got behind the wheel of his red Ferrari and flew out of the parking garage. Part of him wished he could take Kimberly to his apartment for the night, but it would have to wait. For now he would have to make due with chocolate pancakes and his father's approval. She would probably keep him awake for most of the night anyways, and it just wouldn't do to show up to work late with bags under his eyes. He would take her home on Friday.

His phone let out an obnoxious noise from inside his pocket, which told him that it was Morgana calling. His sister had a terrible taste in music so he saw it fitting to make an annoying song play every time she called.

"Did you finally decide to hook me up with your model friends?"

"You're disgusting," she spat, rolling her eyes.

"If you weren't planning on giving your friends the gift of my presence then why did you call, Morgana?"

"I was just wondering if you know where Uther is," she mumbled, her voice taking on a strange tone.

"No idea. He said that 'something requires his attention for the next few hours,' he replied, his voice taking on an extremely formal tone in an attempt to sound like his father. His eyebrows furrowed together when his sister didn't laugh. "Is everything okay? You sound weird."

"Yes Arthur, everything is amazing. Today is the best day of my life, in fact. Being alive is such a beautiful thing," she said sarcastically, slamming her finger on the end button before her brother could reply.

"Sounds like someone's having female issues," he murmured to himself, letting out a giant yawn and blinking violently in an attempt to stay awake. Soon he was screeching to a stop beside his father's numerous cars inside of the garage and walking into his former home.

His shoes made a loud echo with each step he took, making the house seem dreadfully lonely. Arthur was glad that Morgana was still at home. He was convinced that if she wasn't there, Uther would spend even more time at the office than he already did. His older sister had a special place in Uther's heart that he would never be able to fill. He supposed it was because there was nothing that Morgana could do that would let him down, but Arthur had to be perfect since he would be taking over the business.

He rounded the corner and stepped into his old room. The scent of the cologne he used to wear had somehow managed to linger after all these years. His football trophies stared at him from a big display case in the center of the red room, reminding him of the game that he used to love.  
He was hit with even more exhaustion and struggled to stand upright. He slowly made his way into his bathroom, grabbing onto the walls for support. How was it possible to be this tired after just one day of work? Hurriedly, he brushed his teeth and smiled at himself in the mirror, proudly taking note of the fact that even when he was exhausted he still looked good. He swayed over to his bed and collapsed on top of it in a giant heap, not even bothering to get under the covers. He was sleeping so deeply, not even a tornado would wake him up.

* * *

A deep, painful cough erupted through Arthur's body, filling his lungs with thick black smoke. It was unbearably, blisteringly hot. Who turned the heat up so high? His eyes fought themselves open and slammed shut again as he was blinded by bright flames. Panic coursed through him. The whole room was completely covered in flames. How had he not noticed sooner?

He jumped to his feet and forced his eyes open, barely saving himself as his mattress was devoured in flames. He needed to get out of there. Rushing his way forward, he snatched his hand back as he burnt it on the scalding door knob. Cursing, he opened it with the his nice work shirt he hadn't taken off the night before.

The hallway was somehow even worse, with the flames seeming to lick every small sliver of wood. He could slightly make out an opening further down the hallway through all of the flames and smoke. He raced through the house, his body begging for clean oxygen. He was so close to the door, so incredibly close, when a small part of the burning ceiling attacked him, trapping part of his face under the deadly fire. He hastily grabbed it with his fingers and flung it away, adding more spikes of pain through his body. His forehead and right cheek hurt on a level that he had never experienced before as he struggled to put out the flames eating away at his skin.

Finally, he stumbled outside and choked as his lungs fought to get fresh air. Firefighters gripped tightly onto his arms and hastily dragged him away from the danger of the building, sliding an oxygen mask over his face. Everything was a smoky blur, and through the ringing in his ears he could faintly make out a few of the words coming out of the firefighter's panicked mouths.

"Elevate hands! Third degree burns. Hospital."

He felt his eyes start to close and wondered if he should fight to stay awake when all he wanted was to blissfully sleep. Maybe then he would wake up from his terrible nightmare. As he was drifting away, he was cheered up by the thought that at least his face had stopped hurting.

* * *

Author's Note: I'm not the best at finishing stories, but I've planned this one out far more than I've ever planned anything else I've written, so there's a very good chance I'll actually finish this one. If you feel like it, let me know what you thought.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to NineMagicalWords for the comment. :) I can't wait until Merlin comes into the story either, and when he does there's going to be a slight twist with his character. At first I was going to give it away in the description, but I decided to make it a surprise. I know, I'm so kind! If anyone can guess what it is, then they're awesome and they need to stop reading my mind.**

* * *

Arthur wasn't aware of anything but the machine that beeped in sync with his heart beat. As he became more conscious , he furrowed his eyebrows and tried to force his tangled mind to give him answers. What was that beeping noise? And why did his fingertips feel like they were pressed against a hot stove?

The fire. Oh god, the fire.

He almost didn't want to open his eyes and face whatever was coming next. He could give an incredible speech in front of thousands of people without batting an eyelash, but the thought of seeing the damage the fire had done to his body sent intense spikes of fear down his spine. Unfortunately, it also sped up his heartbeat and the obnoxious machine that was monitoring it. He wanted to rip the annoying machine from the wall as it beeped faster and faster and exposed his fear.

He was Arthur Pendragon. He wasn't supposed to be afraid of anything.

"Arthur? Are you awake?" Morgana croaked in a gentle and slightly trembling voice.

Reluctantly, Arthur pried open his eyes and looked up at his sister. She looked terrible. Her red eyes were filled with tears that glided down her already poofy face. Her black hair was a dull and tangled mess, and she was wearing sweats and a random t-shirt-clothes that she normally wouldn't be seen dead in. Almost instantly she ran forward and cried into her brother's shoulder, her hands tightly gripping his hospital robe.

"Oh, god. Arthur." The pure, unfiltered sorrow in her voice broke his heart and brought back his fear.

"What's wrong, Gana?"

His fear level rose even higher when her sobs escalated and he was left without an answer. He'd never seen his sister this devastated before. She had an excellent poker face, but something had broken it into a million pieces. The kind of heartbreak she was displaying was more than being sad over missed belongings and a destroyed home.

"Is dad alright?" The words didn't want to escape from his mouth, but he forced them out of his dry throat.

After a few terrifying seconds, she managed to gather herself enough to pull away from him and look into his frightened eyes.

"Yes, he's fine. I'm sorry if I worried you."

"Then what's wrong? Besides this hospital gown, that is," he joked, hoping that the sound of his sister's laugh would help him escape the anxiety that was trying to suffocate him as the pain in his fingertips began to register more in his mind and his right palm tingled dramatically.

The laugh was forced and strangled, nothing like what he had been hoping for.

"Arthur, you were burned in the fire," she told him reluctantly, grabbing a tissue and wiping her salty eyes. Her words let the anxiety completely lose to torture him. Before those words had been said, he could pretend that he just wasn't remembering correctly. He could make believe that he was completely fine, that the fire had never touched him and he had simply passed out from smoke inhalation or something.

Remembering the horrible pain on the right side of his face, his fingers reached up on their own accord. Instead of the dramatic feeling of burnt flesh that he had expected, they met soft bandages protecting his skin.

"They put bandages on it so it wouldn't get infected," Morgana sniffled.

"How bad is it?" He asked quietly, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer.

Her mouth opened and closed numerous times, not sure how she should go about telling him even more bad news.

"I haven't seen it in person, but in the picture it looked...really bad," she stared at her fingers, ignoring his confused gaze.

"Picture?"

"You should rest, Arthur. You don't need anymore stress," she said, gazing at him sympathetically. Her eyes begged him not to question her any further.

"I need to know. I'll stress much more if I have no idea what's going on!" he shouted, cringing at the loud volume of his voice. Forcing himself to be quieter, he whispered, "Sorry. I just need to know."

Morgana sighed, seeming utterly torn. After some contemplation, she hesitantly began speaking. "While you were passed out, someone took a picture of your face and sold it to a news company," she paused at his sharp intake of breath, but continued talking when her brother remained silent. "Uther's freaking out, screaming at the all of the hospital workers and demanding they find whoever was responsible."

"Great, I bet the media is having a field day with this one," he groaned, slamming the back of his head against the hospital bed and wishing it was something harder.

"They were walking around in the hall, trying to get comments from people. They even took a picture of me looking this horrible, if it makes you feel any better."

"Actually, it does," he chuckled, imagining the gasps of horror that would result when people saw for the first time what the flawless model Morgana looked like after a good cry.

Her eyes shot him with a cruel glare, but soon she was chuckling as well. For a few seconds they laughed together, until a nurse walked in and Arthur remembered how horrible his life was. The woman rubbed a hand over her dark tired eyes. They slightly widened with the realization that she was being watched with not one, but two sets of eyes.

"You're awake," she said with a surprised tone, looking down at her chart. "I'm Gwen," she kindly shook Morgana's hand and turned to Arthur, giving him a small wave to avoid causing his hand pain "I'll be taking care of your burns. Your father has arranged for you to be cared for at home to prevent anymore incidents, but it will still be a little while before you're discharged. Is there anything that you need?"

"No, thank you," he mumbled, staring at the floor and looking depressed.

"Alright. If you change your mind just let me know," she smiled.

"She's awful cheerful," Morgana commented, rolling her eyes.

Arthur didn't reply. His head was spinning as everything that happened rapidly raced through his mind. What exactly had everyone seen when they turned on the news? He needed to see how badly his once beautiful face had been damaged.

"I want to see the picture."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" she questioned. The look of determination in his eyes was all that she needed before she pulled up the troublesome picture on her phone. Her eyes widened slightly, and she hoped that Arthur didn't notice. It looked even worse every time she saw it. Slowly, she held it out for him to see. He ripped the phone from her grip, bringing the screen closer to satisfy his curiosity.

It was horrible. Absolutely, completely terrible. Sickening. He didn't want to look at it anymore, but his eyes were stuck on the image and refused to move. The blackened, burnt, disgusting flesh covered his entire right cheek and spread up to cover a bit more than half of his forehead and a small portion of his nose, somehow leaving his right eye untouched. He couldn't help thinking that this was fate's way of screwing him over. Not only did it completely disfigure the right side of his face, it left his eyes and vision unharmed so he would have to look at himself in the mirror everyday.

"Holy shit," he numbly dropped the cellphone on the bed and stared hopelessly at the ceiling. Tear gathered at the corner of his eyes, tears that he desperately didn't want to cry. It was all too much. It was too fucking much.


End file.
